


Among the Mortals

by DontCallMeStraightOrCis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, also hermionie is scottish because she's too good to be english, also luna n hermionie are trans gals, and i guess all three of them are dating or something, angelina is pan, basically everyone is lgbt and oliver is distressed, cho is bi n nb, hermionie (im definitely spelling that wrong but fuck it) n oliver are black btw, idk - Freeform, muggle au kinda, oliver is trans and bi, percy is nonbinary and mlm idk what exactly, viktor is genderfluid n bi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 09:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontCallMeStraightOrCis/pseuds/DontCallMeStraightOrCis
Summary: Percy is a god, Oliver is awkward, and somehow they end up on a date.





	Among the Mortals

It wasn't that Oliver was scared - he definitely wasn't - or intimidated - obviously - or just shy - clearly - he just didn't want to bother them, that's all. 

  
For the fifth time in the last half hour, Oliver peeked around the corner, dark eyes wide behind his blue frames. Just as every time before, his mouth went dry and his heart began to beat fast. He distantly wondered if it was normal to sweat this much. He couldn't help it, it's just, _god_.

  
They were tall, ridiculously so, they had to be pushing 6'7 or something with long shapely legs that stretched out far beneath the table they were sitting at, ankles crossed. They dressed in simple clothes, peach shorts and a white shirt that only had three of the seven buttons done up, showing off the black choker and the golden chain that hung down with a sun pendant attached.

  
 They were showing off ridiculous amounts of skin that Oliver was sure wasn't up to library etiquette, but nobody said anything to the person.And so, they continued to sit there, leaning slightly forward as they read, the sun lighting up their pale freckle covered skin, setting fire to their bright ginger curls.

Oliver licked his lips and hid back behind the corner.

  
"Oliver, for Christ sake, go talk to them!"

  
He jumped and turned to face the scowling group sitting on the table behind him.

  
"They're reading, it'd be rude to interrupt them," Oliver argued.

  
Angelina groaned, sliding down in her chair. It earned her a sympathetic pat on the hand from her partner, Cho.

  
"And it's not rude to keep us here for over an hour while you have your gay freak out?" Angelina argued.

  
"We haven't been here an hour," Oliver mumbled.

  
"Feels like it..."

  
"Regardless," Cho cut in, "It's boiling in here, and I'm dying. If you don't do something in the next five minutes, I'm leaving."

  
"What happened to being my wingman?!"

  
"In order for me to be your wingman, you first have to actually do something."

  
"They have a point," Viktor pointed out.

  
"Fuck off," Oliver huffed.

  
He stayed standing, rocking on his heels, but didn't chance another look at the person. Someone sighed, and he jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder.

  
"Ollie, look, I don't want to be a dick, but we're seriously losing our minds here. I'm hungry, I'm hot, I'm tired and if I have to stay another minute, I'll scream," Angelina said.

  
Oliver sighed, shoulders slumped.

  
"I know, sorry, it's jus'..."

  
Oliver gestured vaguely in the direction of the person.

  
"Don't think I've ever seen you be this much of a disaster bi. Weren't even so bad with Penny, and you were all over her," Cho commented.

  
Oliver groaned and hid his face in the nearest bookshelf.

  
"I thought we agreed not to mention her," Viktor said.

  
"Oh, aye, sorry Ollie."

  
Just what he needed, a reminder of that failure of a relationship. Oliver felt like there was no true gentle way to end a relationship, but his method of drunkenly calling his girlfriend to announce 'hey babe, I think I'm actually a guy, but you're a lesbian, so this probably won't work, sorry, oh no I'm gonna through up. _bleh'_ had been an outrageously bad one, and he still hand't recovered from it.

He frowned at the copy of Rugby Through The Ages that was pressed against his nose and the space between his eyebrows.

  
Six months. It'd be six months since Penny, and six months since his last relationship. Six months of feeling pathetic and lonely. Seven months tomorrow. Oh god.

  
He pushed himself back and took a breath.

  
"I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna talk to them."

  
Angelina grinned and immediately pushed him in the direction of the person.

  
"About damn time Wood."

  
"Good luck!" Cho called.

  
"Don't scare them by being awkward," Viktor called out.

  
He was practical like that.

  
Oliver coughed, dragging a hand through his black curls, and walked towards the table.

  
He tried to breathe normal, to not be put off by the long nimble fingers that turned the pages of the books, the nails which were painted black. Tried not to trip over his own two feet as the person bit their peach coloured lips and fluttered their pale eyelashes. Tried not to choke on his breath at the beginning of a tattoo that snuck out from underneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt  - a sun, or maybe a lion, he wasn't entirely sure.

  
He failed on all accounts, but never stopped until he was right by the table.

  
Oliver was close enough now to hear the gentle breaths of the person, and his mind went blank. What the fuck was he supposed to say?! Why didn't he think of that before he came?! This was a horrible idea, he decided, he shouldn't have bothered-

  
"Can I help you?"

  
Oh, sweet Christ.

  
The voice was low and rough, each word spoken slowly and carefully, and soaked in what Oliver thought had to be a Northern Welsh accent.  
Oliver looked up, meeting the brown eyes of the person. They were beautiful, only marred by the furrowed brows above them, making them look stern.

  
"C-Can I sit here?"

  
The person looked at the empty tables surrounding them, then smiled softly, cheeks turning sunset pink.

  
"Ah," they began, "I see. Of course, please sit."

  
And so Oliver did. He had no book, no phone, no bag, no nothing, having left all his things with the others. Fuck.

  
"What's your name?" The person asked.

  
"O-Oliver."

  
The person gave a toothy grin, and really, who let this person have a fucking adorable tooth gap? It shouldn't be allowed, Oliver decided.

  
"Nice name. I'm Ignatius." The person frowned. "Ah, wait, think Luna said I should use another. Percy, I think. Ignatius was too strange, she said."

  
"Who's Luna?" Oliver asked, hoping he looked more casual than he felt.

  
He wiped his palms on his trousers. Sweating. Why was he sweating so much? Ignatius- Percy didn't look at all bothered by the heat, they probably didn't even sweat. And if they did, it probably smelt like cotton candy or some shit.

  
"My friend. Think one of your mates know her, ah, Cho, is it?"

  
"Oh do they- wait, how'd you know Cho's my friend?"

  
"Saw you walk in with 'em."

  
"Oh."  
Ignatius - that fit

better, Oliver decided, a strange name for a strange being - had noticed him?

  
He was so caught up with this fact, that he nearly jumped a mile when one of Ignatius' hands landed on top of his, looking ridiculously pale against his darker skin. They could do with going outside more, Oliver mused as he tried to swallow back his thumping heart.

  
"You don' need to be so nervous, I don' bite."

  
"I-I'm not normal like this," Oliver insisted.

  
"I'm sure."

  
They began gently rubbing circles into Oliver's hand with their thumb, and Oliver felt ready to faint.

  
"It's the heat," Oliver mumbled, "Not used to it."

  
"I didn' notice it. You do seem a little sweaty though."

  
Oh god. This was it. This was how he died. Not by a fatal injury on the rugby pitch, not by one of the twins' prank, but by being too sweaty in front of a hot person. Fuck.  
Ignatius pulled their hand away and stood up.

  
Oh no.

  
"Sorry, I-" Oliver began.

  
They cut him off by holding a hand out.

  
"I'd feel awful if you got heat exhaustion, come on, I'll buy you a drink. There's a lovely cafe nearby tha' sells nice cold milkshakes."

  
"I-I- couldn't-"

  
"I'll get us a discount," Ignatius said with a grin, taking Oliver's hand.

  
Oh, he was definitely dead.

  
"Oh, y-you know who works there?"

  
Ignatius laughed, linked their arms together, and Oliver was fucked. Their laugh wasn’t some deep sexy rumble like he’d expected, but instead a combination of quick breaths and snorts that were utterly ugly and unfairly endearing.

  
"Nah, but I know how to get a discount. Pick my book up for me?"

  
"O-Okay."

  
"Ta. Now come on, we'll grab your things then go."

  
"I- what's happening here?"

  
Ignatius frowned.

  
"You're tryna to court me, and I'm let'ing you."

  
"Wait, court?"

  
That only real-life person he'd ever heard use that word was his ancient great aunt. How old fashioned was this guy? 

"Ah, out of date? Sorry, I'm not tha' caught up on modern... lingo."

  
Weird. Stupidly gorgeous, but weird. Oliver was weird too though, so he doubted he was in place to judge. 

  
"It's okay."

  
"So, can we go?"

  
"Uh, sure."

  
Ignatius grinned, placing his free hand on Oliver's arm.

  
"Lovely!" Ignatius blinked, and gently squeezed Oliver's arm. "Rather fit, aren't you?"

  
Oliver let out a strange wheezy noise.

  
"T-Thanks. I play rugby."

  
Ignatius' eyes gleamed.

  
"Rugby?"

"Yeah."

  
"You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

  
“A rugby fan?”

  
“I’m Welsh,” they replied in a matter of fact way.

  
Oliver snickered.

  
“Should have guessed.”

  
“You should. Now come on, it’ll be closed by the time we get there at this rate.”

  
At this point, Oliver wasn’t sure what was happening really, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop it.

  
He let Ignatius pull him towards his friends, and he couldn’t help but grin at the reaction of his friends. Viktor went completely red and wide-eyed, Cho blushed and kept their eyes to the ground, and Angelina gasped.

  
“I’m getting a drink with Ignatius, so I’ll catch up with you later,” Oliver said.

  
Angelina nodded, mouth open a little.

  
“Y-Yeah, have fun, Ollie.”

  
“Ollie?” Ignatius repeated. “Tha’s a fab nickname, can I call you tha'?”

  
No, he obviously wasn’t dead yet because that, that had _definitely_ killed him. 

  
“Y-Yeah, good ahead,” Oliver replied.

  
Their face lit up, and it almost completely distracted Oliver from the way Viktor was dying in the background. _Almost_. Viktor was being really loud, for once.

  
“Brill.”

  
Oliver grabbed his bag and the two quickly walked away. He nearly tripped over the carpet when he heard the others talking behind him, however.

  
“Holy shit,” Viktor said.

  
“Holy shit indeed,” Cho agreed, “No wonder he was so nervous, Christ... how is that guy even real?”

  
“Fuck.”

  
“Don’t have to worry about you two running off with them, do I?” Angelina teased.

  
“Think Oliver would cry if we tried.”

  
“’ sides, already got you, gorgeous,” Cho said, “What more do we need?”

  
Angelina ‘aw’ed and Oliver groaned. Why. Why were his friends like this? Why?

  
“Sorry about them, t-they’re not very… subtle,” he apologised.

  
Ignatius just snorted.

  
“Agreed. They seem lovely though… ah, should I have invited them along?”

  
“No! I-I mean, nah, they uh, had more… reading to do.”

  
Ignatius opened the door and they stepped outside. It was way cooler than it had been when they entered, now just warm enough for it to be comfortable.

  
“You don’ have to lie. You can jus' say you wanted me on my own.”

  
“I-I-“

  
Oliver shut his mouth. It wasn’t like he could argue that it was a lie after all. Ignatius just smiled down at him and pressed their warm palm against the arm looped with theirs.

  
“I’d forgotten how sweet your kind can be.”

  
“Uh, what?”

  
“Ah, Scot'ish.”

  
“Oh.”

  
They fell silent for a while, Ignatius happy to just hum as they walked while Oliver catalogued with slight awe how many people with flushed faces paused and turned to watch Ignatius as they passed.

  
He was beginning to feel like Cho was on the right track; Ignatius just couldn’t be real, right? This had to just some dream where Oliver had somehow managed to fall into the lap of some mysterious handsome stranger that was secretly a world-renowned celebrity, who was for some reason taken with Oliver’s awkwardness, didn’t it?

  
But the arm linked with his was as solid as anything, and pinching did nothing, so he supposed that this was real. Somehow.

  
Right.

  
When they sat down in the cafe, Ignatius immediately went to straightening out everything on their little table, and Oliver was annoyed at himself for finding that endearing.

  
“Sorry,” Ignatius said when they were done, “Luna says I’m an awful control freak.”

  
“My friends say the same about me.”

  
“A neat rugby player? Sounds unreal.”

  
“Don’t blame you,” Oliver laughed

.  
He tried not to think about the changing rooms for his team that always, even when it had been cleaned and uneased for a week, always seemed to reek of sweat and cheap cologne and be covered in muck and dirty socks. He didn’t need to ruin his appetite.

  
“You’re not too warm now, are you?” Ignatius asked.

  
“No, I’m much better now, thanks.”

  
Ignatius flashed him that blinding smile of theirs.

  
“Ah, good. Still ough'a keep you hydrated though, so wha’s your order?”

  
“Strawberry?”

  
“Alrigh', I’ll be back.”

  
Oliver watched them walk away, the grace with which they walked putting everyone around them to shame. Watched the slight way of their hips and all the eyes they attracted.  
He wondered if Ignatius had ever done ballet. His sister had, and although she’d been clumsy as all hell, he’d watched the other dancers as he waited to pick her up, and they had all held themselves with poise and elegance similar to Ignatius. Nowhere near as perfect, but close. In all fairness, Oliver mused, those dancers had only been sixteen. Maybe Ignatius had been just dancing all his life.

  
In what seemed like both forever and no time at all, they returned with a pink and white drink.

  
“Did you get that discount?” Oliver asked.

  
Ignatius smirked.

  
“Of course.”

  
They sat down and elegantly picked up their drink.

  
“Christ,” he muttered.

  
“What?” Ignatius asked.

  
“I just- how are you real?! You’re like- I don’t know, a fucking god or something!”

  
They hide their grin behind a hand.

  
“You’re closer than you think.”

  
“Huh?”

  
Ignatius just laughed.

  
“Never mind. You said you were going to tell me about rugby, didn’ youse?”

  
“Oh, yeah! So…”

  
The hours sped away, the sun dropping like a pin from the sky before Oliver had even noticed. He’d been too caught up in talking and listening, listening to recounts of favourite stories, to complaints about governments and politicians, to jokes about messy flatmates and their wild tales, to-

  
A lot. Ignatius talked a lot, he noticed. Never over Oliver, and they were happy to give him time to talk, but they still talked an awful lot.

  
“Sorry,” they apologised after being gently pushed out of the now-closed café, “I got carried away. I don’, ah, get to talk to new people a lot. It’s jus' Luna and Mionie really, and they already know everything.”

“Someone like you not being popular? Nah, I don’t believe it.”

  
Surely people had to be tripping over themselves to talk to them.

  
“Think I’m a bit... off-puttin'.”

  
“You’re not!”

  
“Then why did you take so long to come talk to me?”

  
Oliver stared at his feet. Ah.

  
“…You’ve got me there.”

  
Ignatius touched his arm – they did that a lot, Oliver noticed -and smiled.

  
“I’m not offended nor nothing, it jus'… it ge's a lil lonely, as you could imagine.”

  
“Y-Yeah.”

  
“…You should ask to see me again.”

  
Oliver blinked, eyes wide.

  
“You… you want to see me again?”

  
“Of course! Did I do something that suggests otherwise?”

  
“No! It’s just… you’re all that, and-“

  
“You’re fit. And charmin'. Sweet. And I’d like to see you again.”

  
“Are you sure? Because -I”

  
Oliver choked on his words as a pair of soft lips pressed against his cheek. They were warm, like, weirdly warm, and his cheek burned a little when they pulled away.

  
“Shush,” Ignatius whispered, “You’re wonderful.”

  
Oliver laughed sharply.

  
“Can I invite you back to my place?”

  
“I don’ think tha's proper.”

  
They were still smiling though, so Oliver wasn’t too worried that he might have put them off.

  
“Right, you’re all old-school.”

  
Ignatius tipped their head to the side.

  
“Old… school?”

  
“I mean like, old fashioned.”

  
“Ah, sorry. I-“

  
“Ignatius?” An airy, Irish voice called out.

  
“Luna,” Ignatius responded, turning to face the girl behind them.

  
She waved, while the girl holding her other hand rolled her eyes.

  
Luna was an interesting one. Much like Ignatius, she was tall and pale and slim, but her eyes were big and wide, coloured a pale grey, and her hair was long, straight and white. Her clothes were the strangest thing, however. A pale jumper tucked into a long holographic skirt, a long fluffy white coat with dark blue fingerless gloves… interesting. Despite this, she was breathtakingly beautiful like Ignatius too, and somehow even more off-putting.

  
“Where on earth have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” The other – Scottish - girl exclaimed.

  
She was also painfully beautiful – was there some hot people club he was missing out on, Oliver wondered – in her olive jumpsuit. Her hair was long and dark and coiled, her skin a warm brown and her eyes so dark they were nearly black. A stack of books were tucked under her free arm, and unlike the other two, she actually looked like someone he wouldn’t be afraid to start a conversation with. He could imagine bumping into her at a small local bookstore and happily asking her for recommendations on coffee shops and best-sellers. His heart would still be racing, but he doubted he’d be worried about accidentally throwing up around her. Maybe it was the fact that she was far shorter than the other two, and far bigger too, making her appear far softer and sweeter.

  
Or maybe it was the lesbian badge she wore. Yeah, that was probably it. 

  
“Sorry Hermione, I found someone to talk to and forgot the time,” Ignatius said.

  
The two girls looked him over, and Oliver swallowed, eyes darting down to his feet.

“That’s a first,” Hermione commented.

  
“Oh, are we interrupting something?” Luna asked.

  
“No, I was jus' saying goodbye,” Ignatius reassured her.

  
“Good, because I’m starving and would rather like to get back home before our pizza does,” Hermione huffed.

  
“We will be, don’t worry,” they insisted before turning to Oliver, “Do you still wan' to see me again?”

  
“Yes! Uh, I’m free tom- Tuesday. We could meet outside the library and go for lunch?”

  
That sounded less desperate, right? It was only a day later, but Oliver hoped it was enough.

  
“Sounds brillian'. I’ll see you then, Ollie.”

  
Ignatius pulled away, and Oliver felt like he’d been dropped into an ice bath. Still, he smiled and waved, and turned around, beginning to walk away.

  
His cheek was still tingly, and he slowly brought a hand to the spot where the lips had once been. Strangely, he could feel something there. He pulled his fingers away to see something black on his fingertips, a strange thing since Percy hadn’t been wearing lipstick or anything. What was that? Eye shadow? Dried dirt?

...Ash?

He turned around, just in time to see the three disappear in a flash of light.

  
His jaw dropped and he froze.

  
Holy shit indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i hope you appreciated reading about my weird au that I came up with and wrote while stuck up at my Nan's for four hours


End file.
